A Cold Machine
by indigovioletstargazer
Summary: "Just give Peter a kick will you?" Written for the fabulous HEATWAVE prompt suggested by CSI Encyclopedia. This story is dedicated to you sweetie. Set in Pakistan during S4 and references a few snippets and new characters from the S4 trailer.


Written for the fabulous "_HEATWAVE_" prompt suggested by _CSI Encyclopedia_. This story is dedicated to you sweetie.

Set in Pakistan during S4 and references a few snippets and new characters from the S4 trailer.

...

**A COLD MACHINE**

...

"It's a real heatwave this week." Carrie wiped perspiration from her brow. She saw Fara rising from her chair. "Just give _Peter_ a kick will you?"

"Yes of course," Fara chuckled. She meandered through the other personnel at their desks and shoved her slim hip firmly against the target.

The rusty air conditioning unit clunked and spluttered, resuming it's incessant humming drone.

Quinn rolled up his shirt sleeves and glared across at Carrie. "Why do you call that crappy air con unit _Peter_?"

"Because it's _a cold machine_." Carrie smirked. "Just like you."

"Really?" Virgil hooted as he fanned himself. "I thought it's because it keeps us so chilled in here. Just like Quinn and his string of jokes."

"Thanks Virgil," Quinn grinned, not realising his colleague was being sarcastic. "Fancy a beer later?"

Virgil gave him the thumbs up.

"I thought the air con was called _Peter_ because it's cool." Fara blushed as she realised how that might be interpreted by the others.

"Quinn is not cool," Carrie laughed. "Have you seen his shoes?"

"I meant cool as a cucumber," Fara murmured as she headed for the door. "Cool under pressure."

"Thanks Fara," Quinn's eyes crinkled at her sweet comment. "You can come out for a beer with me and Virgil later... Oh and fuck you Carrie."

Max cleared his throat and stood up to broadcast his unique interpretation. "I thought the crappy air con unit was called _Peter_ because it's hopeless at it's job. Just like Quinn."

Virgil gave his younger brother a warning frown. Carrie's jaw dropped open and she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Quinn doesn't shoot people when he's supposed to." Max continued, bizarrely oblivious to his embarrassed audience. "Then he shoots the wrong people the rest of the time."

The air conditioning unit whirred and clattered, breaking the prolonged ghastly silence.

"Fuck you Max." Quinn clenched his fists. "I preferred you mute. You've become a mouthy little shit since we came to Pakistan."

"Well, I'd prefer you not to invite Fara out for a beer." Max scowled as he jabbed his finger in Quinn's direction. "She doesn't drink. And where would you even buy beer here?"

"Don't worry Loverboy." Quinn jumped up and leaned across, nose to nose with Max. "I'm really not after your girlfriend."

...

_Later that evening_

"A cold machine?" Quinn stared across the office where only him and Carrie remained. "Is that how you see me?"

Carrie folded her laptop shut and tucked it into her bag. "Does it matter?"

Quinn frowned. "Would you like it if I compared you to a piece of industrial equipment?"

Carrie shrugged. "Call me what you like."

"Where are you going?" Quinn evaluated her. "Can I give you a ride back to your apartment?"

"I'm meeting someone," Carrie raked her hair.

"Oh, who is it tonight?" Quinn sniped. "Edgar? Aayan? Or Aasar again?"

"It's important that I network over here Quinn," Carrie growled. "Build relationships. Especially with the Pakistani intelligence service."

"Network? Is that what you call it?" grumbled Quinn, unzipping his bag.

"Are you jealous?" Carrie suppressed a smirk.

"I'm _a cold machine_ remember," sighed Quinn. "Incapable of emotion."

Carrie watched him unplug his computer and shove it angrily into his bag. "Max is going off the rails a bit, huh? I'm sorry he spouted all that weird crap earlier. All of it untrue. Obviously."

"Max is borderline fucking lunatic..." began Quinn, but paused as Carrie washed down two pills with a swig of water. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Quinn. I'm well. Stable." Carrie smiled. "So what are your plans for tonight?"

"The usual," Quinn checked his cell phone and yawned. "Go back to my room. Have a shower and hope Dar Adal doesn't turn up unannounced. Grab some food. Maybe watch some porn."

"Sounds like fun." Carrie laughed, "More fun than meeting Aasar Khan."

"Join me if you like?" Quinn grinned wickedly.

"For the shower?" Carrie raised an eyebrow. "Or for the dirty movie?"

Quinn took a firm step towards her. "Both?"

"Maybe I'll drop by later then. Once I've finished with Aasar." Carrie chuckled and waved Quinn away. "Although I probably need to call Edgar too. Apologise for shouting at him earlier."

"Apologise as in fuck him?" Quinn arched an eyebrow.

Carrie did her best to look offended. "He called us monsters, Quinn. All of us."

"Maybe he was right?" Quinn's face was unreadable.

"Monsters... Machines... Whatever." Carrie sighed. "Hey, turn _Peter_ off will you?"

"Sure Carrie." Quinn unplugged his namesake, the air con unit. _A cold machine! _He rolled his eyes._ She really has no idea._


End file.
